


captivated: eridan/oc, sollux

by coldhope



Series: HHCOD fills [16]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldhope/pseuds/coldhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HHCOD request ficlet: Eridan, desperate, finds himself the subject of someone else's one-night stand</p><p>I would like to thank: asukaskerian, rainbowbarnacle, vastderp, roachpatrol for useful input on this one</p><p>enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	captivated: eridan/oc, sollux

lizardlicks asked eridan-hc-on-demand:   
Requesting: Eridan's desire to fill quadrants lets him get duped into a one night stand. He might realize he's being played half way through, but his stubborn pride won't let him bail out. Afterwards, he feels used, deeply ashamed of and disgusted with himself and starts to spiral into depression, but the same pride keeps him from going to anybody for help or comfort. Troll or human of your choice figures out something is wrong anyway, and finally drags it out of him after much pestering.

~

If the goddamn dark season storms hadn't come early, none of this would have happened. 

Eridan stared into the depths of whatever it was he was drinking. It was sticky. It was purple. It tasted a bit like cough medicine, but at least it was knocking off the edges of his profound conviction that every other troll in the bar was staring at him in silent vicious mirth. 

If it hadn't been for the early howling dark--and the cold it brought with it--he wouldn't have had to turn to the brandy bottle to cheer himself up, a week ago, and if he hadn't had too much to drink he wouldn't have let his panicky awareness of the passing of time and the emptiness of his quadrants convince him to actually sign up for Trollmatch.com and post a goddamn profile pic. 

(Nobody could know about this. Ever. Particularly not Feferi.)

He'd woken up, last week, with a thumping headache and a terrible queasy apprehension that he'd done something profoundly dumb, and had to drink quite a lot of coffee before he felt equal to the challenge of opening up the computer and finding out what he'd actually said. 

Most of the replies to Trollmatch user vvioletprince were the kind of thing he was expecting: lol nice horns wanna pail or haha fucking hipster douche whatever. He'd deleted them, trying not to notice that he was blushing miserably to the roots of his hair, and vowed that if anyone ever did find out about this it was done _ironically_. One of the messages did stand out, though, from a blueblood fairly high on the range from cerulean to cobalt. The icon they'd selected was the red heart.

_Hi there,_

_I don't normally send messages like this, but I saw your profile and something about it just captivated me. I don't know if it's just that you're so attractive or if it's something about the way you wrote about yourself, but I couldn't stop thinking about you, so I'm taking a chance here._

He'd blinked, and reread it. 

The blueblood went on: _I'm not sure if you'd be interested, but I'd love to meet you in person. A lot of what you said about the loneliness of the sea really resonated with me. My name's Hannow Lisvan, I'm just turning eight sweeps, and I enjoy reading--specially history--and walks on the beach. I know it sounds clichéd, but it's true!_

The attached profile pic had shown a slim troll with long wavy hair and horns that curved toward each other in a smooth arc; her lips were painted the deep blue of her blood, and blue gems swung and dangled from silver hoops in her ears. He'd stared at it for a long time before replying. 

wwell hannoww i think wwe might possibly havve the beginnin a somethin here youre dowwnright gorgeous 

howw about wwe havve a drink together an talk about the sea 

say wwhen an wwhere

He'd been almost sick with nervous excitement, dressing: his best military-style violet jacket, black trousers, all his rings, a black-and-violet fringed scarf, polished shoes with pointed toes. On the way over, though, the excitement had begun to curdle into just apprehension, and then into dread. What the hell was he doing, meeting a stranger from a dating website in an upscale bar, everyone would know he was fuckin desperate, look at the brinesucker can't even get himself laid if he paid for it, look at the seadweller on a blind date like some shitty romcom, look at the douche in the purple uniform get stood up by whoever trolled him into thinking he had a chance--

"Eridan?" somebody said. He started violently and almost knocked over the purple cough syrup. 

She was tall, unlike Feferi, and she'd pulled the black masses of her hair back in a tight ponytail, glossy and neat and polished. She was wearing a dark blue dress that shimmered in the dim barlight. The gems in her ears caught and held glints as she moved. And she was smiling. At him. 

"Sorry I'm late," she said, slipping onto a stool beside him. "I was so hoping to make a good first impression!"

"Y-uh, you have. Made one. Wow. I mean. Hi, it's nice to meet you?" He could hear how stupid he sounded, how nervous, and then he actually _stuck out his hand_ like some uneducated rube and could have kicked himself. All Hannow Lisvan did was take his hand in hers, cool and smooth and slender, and shake it firmly.

"Nice to meet you too, Eridan. Your picture didn't do you justice, you know." Eyes half-lidded; she was wearing blue kohl which echoed the ring of cobalt round her irises. "I kind of have a confession to make, though."

His heart sank. "--It's okay--"

"I have to confess," she said, "that this is actually the first time I ever did this--I mean, meet someone from trollmatch. I'm kind of nervous, to tell you the truth."

She did not look like a troll who was nervous. "Um. It's my first ti...the first time I've done it too."

"Really? Then that's perfect. We can be nervous together." Hannow smiled at him again, and he was absolutely sure he was bright purple in the face.

"What can I get you to drink?" he squeaked.

~

It turned out that Hannow's hivestem apartment was super close to the bar, and what with one thing and another and quite a few more purple cough-syrups and butterscotch Culling Forks both of them were in no condition to make it all the way back to Eridan's. Sloppy and giggling and draped on one another, they kissed all the way up in the elevator and all the way down the hall, only breaking apart when she had to fumble for her keys to let them in. Then his mouth was on hers and one of her hands grabbed his horn and they half-stumbled, half-fell to a couch without bothering to turn on the lights. 

She was warm around him, warm and wet and she felt like rolls of velvet. His hands slid down her sides, cupped her waist, holding her tight even as she ground her hips against him, her bulge's tip tracing and nudging and slipping with that wonderful spreading warmth into his nook.

Drunk as they were, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for long. He tried to find his words to tell her, but she seemed to know how close he was, and he moaned as she decaptchalogued a pail and as her nook tightened around him, pulling him further in. Waves of insistent pressure rippled along his bulge and that was it, that was enough to lift him up and over and he cried out in release, cried something incoherent that was probably meant to be her name, and a moment later she too came in a rush of heat, the two of them nearly filling the pail to its brim. 

Eridan saw black stars in a purple sky, swooping and dancing and finally clearing to let him look up at Hannow. She was panting, head tipped back, and he could barely speak but he already wanted her again.

She let him have her twice more before they both fell exhaustedly asleep, and the last thing he could remember before passing out, holding her in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest, was _this is it, this is what I've been waiting for, this is what it's like to finally, finally find your matesprit, and all the waiting has been worthwhile after all._

She'd captchalogued their pail.

~

The note was in blue ink. Her handwriting was tilted, elegant. _Eridan-- Thanks for last night. You were amazing!! Help yourself to coffee if you want._

He stared at it, muzzy, his head pounding. Well, she was... busy. Probably? He hadn't woken when she left, maybe she hadn't wanted to wake him--hungover as he was--and had just left the note in case he woke up before she got back? Then he noticed the little > in the corner of the paper, and turned it over. 

_P.S., the door will lock itself after you. Have a nice day!_

In the darkness, earlier, drunk and utterly out of his mind with desire, he had failed to notice the collection of little picture frames on the table beside the couch. There were four of them, tiny rectangular frames, exactly the right size to hold a Trollmatch profile pic. 

Three of the pictures were of bluebloods around Hannow's own shade; the fourth troll was much darker, practically indigo, and his picture looked newer than the rest. She was working her way up, it looked like. Bagging an actual violetblood must have made her whole week. He wondered if she already had the frame picked out and ready for his picture.

Eridan only just realized he was going to vomit in time to run for the kitchen sink. Recycled purple whatever-it-had-been tasted even worse going the other way. 

~

He had to throw up again on the way home, retching miserably into the gutter. The purple jacket felt as if it must stand out like a flare, drawing all the attention, all of it: look at the idiot spewing his guts out right there in public, look at the walk of shame, look at the seadweller who thought he had found his matesprit, who thought someone really actually finally wanted him.

Fucking joke. All a fucking joke. 

When he finally did get back to his shiphive, he threw the hateful jacket over the back of a chair, stripped off his clothes, and crawled into his recuperacoon. He didn't bother pulling over a trash can beside the cupe in case he was sick again; he didn't bother turning on the heater; he didn't bother stripping off his rings, merely sank into the comforting embrace of the slime and closed his eyes and tried not to be awake. 

At least the sopor kept the dreams away. 

~

It was three nights before he could bring himself to open up the computer again. He hadn't eaten much--he'd spent most of the time sleeping--but he still felt sick to see the Trollmatch site come up on the screen. He closed it without looking at any of the messages. He'd delete the account later, just...right now he couldn't look at that. 

Trollian messages had piled up too. Most of them from Karkat and Feferi, a couple from Sollux. He deleted the entire backlog without reading them, either, and sat looking at the blank screen for a few minutes, wondering if the grubtoast he'd made himself eat was going to make a return appearance. It wasn't just the humiliation of being someone's one-night stand; it was that he'd been so _stupid_ , so completely moronic as to let himself believe that it would be anything other than just a one-night stand, that she really had feelings for him. He'd been as idiotic as it was possible to be and still remain continent and capable of speech. 

_This is what you get_ , he told himself, _when you let hope get hold of you. You know better. You've always known better._

It wasn't fear that was the mind-killer, it was fucking _hope_.

He closed the computer again. When rain spattered against the porthole by his desk he jumped, startled, and then got up. Rain was appropriate. Rain was good. He wanted to feel it on his face. It was cold outside, but that was good, too, cold would numb him eventually. 

Eridan went out on the deck, and curled up on a coil of rope, and shut his eyes. 

 

~

TA: 2o  
TA: vanta2 wiill not get off my goddamn bulge about not beiing able two contact you  
TA: ff ii2 al2o worriied a2 fuck  
TA: and ii have two 2ay iit ii2 begiinniing two wear on my normally carefree and happy-go-lucky 2tate of miind  
TA: 2o unle22 you want me two make your 2hiitty purple hu2ktop explode and take out half your 2hiitty purple hiive wiith iit  
TA: ii 2ugge2t you quiit playiing whatever fuckiing game you thiink you're playiing and an2wer hii2 goddamn piing2  
TA: hello?  
TA: ed ii'm 2eriiou2 about the explodiing thiing  
TA: that ii2 totally a thiing ii can make happen

caligulasAquarium (CA is idle!

TA: ok iim not kiiddiing  
TA: countdown two explo2iion iin ten. niine. eiight. 2even.  
TA: ed ii would 2tep back from the computer  
TA: fiive. four. three.  
CA: jesus christ captor   
CA: blocking you  
TA: ii knew you were there!  
CA: fuck off  
TA: gladly, all you have two do ii2 talk two vanta2  
CA: no  
caligulasAquarium (CA) has blocked twinArmageddons (TA)!

TA: wow, ampora. what crawled up your nook and diied?  
caligulasAquarium (CA) has blocked twinArmageddons (TA)!

TA: ok iim 2tartiing two get a liittle worriied here  
caligulasAquarium (CA) has blocked twinArmageddons (TA)!

TA: 2eriiou2ly, eriidan, what ii2 iit?  
CA: WWOULD YOU FUCKIN LEAVVE ME ALONE HOWW THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL TALKIN TO ME I BLOCKED YOU  
TA: iit'2 me, remember? ii can blow up your hu2ktop, iit ii2 liike not even remotely challengiing two overriide you.  
TA: what ii2 the matter.  
CA: im turnin off the computer noww captor  
CA: unpluggin it  
CA: so you an your stupid leet haxxor threats can go fuck yourselvves  
CA: tell kar i dont wwanna talk to him  
CA: or anybody  
CA: evver  
CA: again  
TA: oh 2hiit.  
caligulasAquarium (CA) has blocked twinArmageddons (TA)!  
caligulasAquarium (CA) has signed off!

~

Sollux stared at the line of text on his screen. He'd seen Ampora throw some impressive snits before, but this was far beyond his usual level of pissiness. This was like Pissiness 2.

He typed out a message to Feferi and Karkat: goiing two 2ee wtf ii2 up wiith ampora, wiill keep you po2ted. Then, thoughtfully, he shut down his own husktop and went to climb out of the window. 

It was cold outside, and he soon wished he'd taken the time to put on a coat or something: before long his t-shirt was soaked to him with cold rain and his hair was hanging in wiggles with drips on the end. Flying out over the shore, over the ocean, the weather got worse, and he had to spend quite a lot of concentration on keeping his course steady against the freshening wind. _This better be fucking worth it_ , he thought. _Ampora has some explaining to do._ His least-favorite seadweller had been slacking the fuck off on Subterranean-Ore-Extractioncraft and if nothing else he wanted an opportunity to chew him out about not doing his part.

After a few more minutes the wreck of Eridan's shiphive came in view, and Sollux let himself descend, hovering over the battered deck. There was no sign of Ampora. He landed lightly and went to climb down the companionway to bang on the door. 

"Friendly neighborhood asshole police, open the fuck up."

Silence. Sollux banged on the door again, harder. "Ampora, open this door or I am gonna break it down with my brain, I have had it with your bullshit today."

There was a faint shuffling noise, and then Ampora's voice, muffled through the door, sounding thick and cloggy. "Go away."

"What part of open the door am I not getting through to you? I flew all the way out here in a goddamn dark-season storm and I am not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck your damage is."

More silence. He was about to start banging again when the little click of the lock cut through the wind-noise in the shrouds. Sollux blew wet hair out of his face and let himself inside--

\--into dark, thick, rank stillness. It reeked of unwashed troll, stale sopor, sickness, alcohol. How many nights had they been trying to get a hold of Eridan? Fucking Christ. 

"...Fuck," said Sollux, and let his eyeshine intensify, casting a dim red-and-blue glow in the darkness. "Eridan. What the hell is...what's wrong with you?"

Eridan was vaguely visible as a dark lump on the couch. Sollux reached over with a crackle of psionic and flipped on the light, and _stared_. 

Something in his chest turned over, like a vast wave mounting and collapsing. He had never seen Eridan Ampora look quite this completely wrecked in his entire life. He was pale grey except for the deep violet pools under his eyes--eyes which looked glittery-bright and more than a little sunken; his hair, greasy and uncombed, stuck up in the back and fell awkwardly over one eye; he was wearing a stained T-shirt and what looked like pajama pants, a bathrobe wrapped round his shoulders. His feet were bare, and Sollux could see the remains of purple nail-varnish on the toes, chipped and fading. 

Something vivid, viscid, a stone sinking into syrup, moved inside his chest. Maybe it was just the sight of those pale toes with their battered ornamentation; maybe it was the weariness of having flown all the way out here and the sick shock of finding Ampora in this state. It had been a long trip, after all. He was entitled to feel tired.

Maybe not to ache, though. Whatever it was made his breath come slightly shorter, as if there wasn't quite enough air in the room. "What happened?" Sollux asked again, still staring. He didn't even really like the guy, what the fuck, what even was this.

Eridan curled up against the arm of the couch, hiding his face behind his folded arms. "Are you sick? Are...do you need to see someone? Should I call Feferi?"

" _No_ ," Eridan ground out, not looking up. "What do you want."

"I _want_ you to tell me what the fuck happened to you, you look like sixteen kinds of deep-fried shit and you smell fucking terrible."

Eridan's shoulders heaved a little, but he didn't reply. Sollux pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and went over to sit somewhat gingerly on the edge of the couch. "What--" he began, but realized Eridan was crying. 

The drifts of crumpled-up purple-stained tissues round the room suggested he'd been doing a lot of that. "...don't want to talk about it," he said, in that clogged-up miserable voice. Sollux reached out, hesitated, then put an arm around him, and wow, shit, Eridan had lost weight, all the bones of his back seemed to have been sharpened. He felt warm, too, which was wrong, Sollux was much more warm-blooded than any seatroll should have been. 

At the touch, Eridan hunched in on himself, but didn't shake Sollux off. This close up, he really did smell terrible. Sollux thought possibly some of the stains on his shirt were vomit. "Come on, ED, shit, tell me."

"'s stupid."

"Yeah, I'm getting that, but tell me anyway. Christ, you're all bones. What _happened_?"

"'m an idiot is what happened."

Sollux closed his eyes and drew in a long slow breath, willing himself not to lose his temper. "Well, maybe you've done some dumb shit in your life, but who the hell hasn't? Seriously, you're... you are not well, ED. You need some help."

"...don't need anything," Eridan said into his hands, not sounding all that convinced. "'m fine."

"You are not fucking fine, you're a wreck, this _place_ is a wreck, when was the last time you even ate anything? I think you've got a temperature. Your friends are worried about you, okay? Really worried. _I'm_ worried." It was true: he realized, suddenly, helplessly, that the unhappy pressure in his chest just under his ribs was legitimate concern.

Eridan looked over at him, sideways, eyes puffy and inflamed from crying, lips scabbed where he'd been biting them, and took in a deep hitching breath, as if preparing to say something, before dissolving in fresh floods of tears. These weren't angry the-world-is-unfair tears; these were slower, sadder, desolate, hopeless, the tears of someone who has been weeping for a long time and does not see any reason ever to stop. 

"Fuck," said Sollux, and wrapped his arms round Eridan, heedless of how much he needed a bath, and hugged him fiercely tight. It didn't make the hurt in his chest go away, but it...it helped a bit.

Getting the story out of him took a little while and a lot more tissues. Eridan had been crying himself repeatedly sick for the past _week_ , Sollux wondered how the hell he hadn't dried up like a mummy by now. 

"...an so I saw s-she had this col-l-ection a, a profile pictures. All f-from Trollmatch. She was...she w-was gatherin trophies. Each a them more h-highblooded than the last."

Sollux stayed still and silent for long enough after this pronouncement that Eridan twisted his neck to look up at him, lip wobbling again, and goddamn it he just could not take any more crying at the present moment, so he kissed Eridan's warm forehead firmly. "Listen to me," he said, before Eridan could protest. "Listen real good, okay? I want you to do two things for me."

"W-what?"

"Thing one. I want you to go on Trollmatch and open up this bitch's profile for me."

"I can't, Sol, I--"

"You can and you will, cause I need to know her info in order to fuck up her shit to the depth and breadth and intensity to which it needs fucking. Thing two, go take a damn bath."

Eridan stared at him, shocked silent. 

"What? She's a goddamn predator. What she did to you was stupid and cruel and entirely selfish. Also you smell terrible."

"Y-you kissed me," he said. 

"Yeah, we'll discuss that after you're cleaned up and I've had a chance to introduce Ms. Hannow Lisvan to a gigantic fucking virtual bulgeslap." His voice had lost some of its nasal edge, gone colder, lower than usual. Sollux couldn't remember being this angry in sweeps.

Eridan was looking at him with something like admiration in his eyes. "Go on," Sollux said, giving his shoulder a pat. "Make with the computer access." He could easily get into Eridan's husktop on his own, but he thought perhaps the guy had had enough of being out of control of the situation. 

~

It didn't take him long, even working with Eridan's much more primitive computer. Five minutes to get into Lisvan's account and send carefully crafted messages out to all the trolls she'd ever hooked up with; ten more to get into her tannoy and trollmblr accounts; no time at all to forward her information to several highly niche publications, and maybe three to erase all traces of his presence. He watched, smiling tightly, as the retan count went up on the latest message posted to her tannoy account: I like to troll flushed dating websites for highbloods to pail and break their fucking hearts, and they can't do shit about it, I get away every single time.

He shut down the computer and went to go knock on the ablution block's door. "Eridan? You okay?"

Tiny, tiny voice. "...maybe?"

"Want me to come in?"

" _Yes_."

He smiled, opening the door. Eridan was in the ablution trap, covered in soapsuds, looking as scrawny and ungainly as a newhatched bird. "Mission accomplished," he said. "She is unlikely to be pulling that shit again anytime soon."

"Sol?"

"Yeah."

"Why'd you kiss me?"

It was a valid question. He thought about it, kneeling down beside the edge of the trap. "Cause I wanted to, I guess. Cause it hurts my heart to think of you hurting. Cause I came out here not knowing what I'd find and I found that, hey, against all odds I pity the _fuck_ out of you, Ampora."

"Oh," he said in that tiny voice.

"But it's cool if you don't feel like that about me," Sollux continued. "Consider it a weird one-time aberration. You are safe from my marauding lips."

Eridan stared at him. "B-but I don't want to be."

"Hmm?"

"Safe. I mean. I do want to be safe. But not from you. I. Um." He tugged on a soapy strand of hair. "I just never thought you'd be interested is all."

Sollux felt something heavy around his thorax--something he'd been carrying since he first got in touch with Eridan over Pesterchum--break apart. "Didn't know I was. But I am."

"You mean it?"

The little question hurt his heart much worse. "Listen to me, okay? Look into my eyes. I will never lie to you about this shit. Ever."

"...you're really flushed for me?"

"I don't know where it is from pale to red, but I'm hells of _something_ for you."

"Sol?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

He couldn't help smiling. "You're welcome, okay? Now shut up and let me wash your hair."

Eridan shut up, and leaned backwards against Sollux's arm. Outside, the dark-season storm howled and raved and muttered and sang, but inside it was warm and bright and just now, just for this moment, the universe felt kind to Sollux: the universe felt, for once, as if it was willing to give them just this one time a tiny break.


End file.
